


The miserable have no other medicine but only hope

by trying_to_spell_both_our_names_at_once



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: 41st division, Autistic Zuko (Avatar), Canonical Child Abuse, Child Soldiers, Fire Nation (Avatar), Gen, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I just like the idea that the Fire Nation people support Zuko, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Just Zuko being told that his people still love him really, Ozai (Avatar) is an Asshole, Rebellion, The usual shit that comes with Zuko, Zuko (Avatar)-centric, Zuko is an Awkward Turtleduck, or at least heavily implied, this is a mess of a fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:40:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25475518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trying_to_spell_both_our_names_at_once/pseuds/trying_to_spell_both_our_names_at_once
Summary: “You remember him,” Chit Sang sounded surprised.“I remember all of their names,” Zuko admitted. While he was on the ship, his father had sent him every death certificate from the 41st division. There was never any other note, no words from the Fire Lord, just a piece of paper with the name, age, and rank of the soldier who died. Zuko had kept every single one on his ship, reading over every single one and committing their names to his memory. He couldn’t stop them from dying, but they were what motivated him to keep moving, to get back his honor so that he could help prevent deaths like theirs....Chit Sang's brother fought in the 41st division. Unknowingly, Zuko had become a beacon of hope to those in the Fire Nation whose family had perished in the needless war, to the people who wished for a Fire Lord who will fight for their people instead of power. Chit Sang feels the need to let Zuko know this.
Relationships: Chit Sang & Zuko, The Gaang & Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 66
Kudos: 2236
Collections: Quality Fics





	The miserable have no other medicine but only hope

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't watched the show in forever but I got this story in my head and could not get it out. It's kind of short and rocky, but I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

The reunion was joyful. Katara and Sokka were practically attached to their fathers’ hip, all smiles and happiness and relief. Zuko couldn’t help but let his own lips tip up slightly at the sight, despite the heavy pit deep in his stomach that was leftover from the confrontation with his sister. 

He was making tea, because everyone was happy and talking and he wanted to contribute in any way that he could to keep up the warm atmosphere. It was rare that they had such a boisterous dinner. Sure things were never sad, but there was never this carefree feeling over all of them. 

They have very limited tea supply, Toph had gotten it for him as a joke the last time they went into town, betting that he couldn’t make it as good as his uncle did. Obviously he couldn’t, despite his time at the tea shop he never quite perfected the technique his Uncle tried to implant on him. But it was good enough for him to feel comfortable serving. 

Everyone was caught up in their own conversations. It took him a very long time to realize how the firepit worked. Sometimes they would all talk to each other, sharing stories that they would all listen and talk about. Those times were the safest, Zuko could easily fade into the background and let himself listen to the stories the other shared and despite never really talking much, his stories weren’t really that happy to hear, he still felt like part of the group.

Other times, they would break into separate conversations, either talking over the fire or to those beside them, two to three conversations all happening at once. Those were harder to get used to. The noise sometimes got too overwhelming, hard for him to concentrate with all the different voices floating over him, certain parts muted due to his ear. He got used to it eventually, and Toph or Aang always seemed to understand his discomfort and tried to distract him from it all. The more he experienced it the easier it was to handle.

Sometimes they sat in silence, all of them staring at the flames as words failed them. Luckily, that rarely happened. 

Currently, they were all doing the second option while Zuko went around pouring the tea. Katara and Sokka were talking to their father, Aang cheerfully pitching in as they recounted their many adventures. Toph was displaying some minor earth bender tricks to a laughing Suki, although they were on his left side, so it was kind of hard to follow what they were doing without fully turning his head to look at them. 

The only person that was quiet, other than him, was Chit Sang. Whenever Zuko looked up, the man was staring at him with a look Zuko was unable to decipher. 

He knew Chit Sang was fire nation, so there were a lot of reactions Zuko expected from him. Zuko may be banished, but he was still a Prince. A part of him expected a look of awe, respect, maybe a bit of fear. Or if Chit Sang was still somewhat loyal to his nation, anger, disappointment, disgust. 

Instead, the man seemed to look at him with something close to appreciation, gratitude. It didn’t make sense, so Zuko tried to ignore the other man, despite him being seated right next to him. It was hard to ignore him when pouring tea though, so Zuko gave the man a tight-lipped smile as he handed him the cup. It probably looked more like a grimace. 

“Thank you Prince Zuko,” Chit Snag said, his voice quiet. Zuko almost flinched back at the title. 

“Just Zuko is fine,” He said immediately. “Not much of a prince anymore.” 

Chit Sang frowned, opening his mouth as if to say something else but Zuko quickly turned to pour more tea in Toph’s cup, she was the closest to him. She looked over at him in confusion, but didn’t question him all that much thankfully. 

Zuko settled back down in his spot, nursing his own cup of slightly overcooked tea. His uncle would call it an improvement from his last time, just to be nice. He basked in the noise for a bit, letting it wash over him as he took calming breaths, the fire pit dancing slightly with him. He let himself smile slightly as he looked around at the people he hoped to call friends one day. He was content with where he was at the moment, a feeling he never thought he would have while traveling with the Avatar. 

“My brother was in the 41st,” Chit Snag said suddenly, and the fire pit in front of them flared slightly as Zuko’s heart rate pounded. 

He turned to look at the other man, who was still staring at Zuko with that same indescribable look and Zuko quickly avoided eye contact with him, focusing instead on his nose. 

“I’m sorry,” Zuko said just as quiet. “What was his name?”

“Kaori, he was the-“

“Youngest of the division,” Zuko said, cutting Chit Sang off, he couldn’t find it in himself to feel bad about it.

“You remember him,” Chit Sang sounds surprised, and when Zuko’s eyes dart up to his face he does see a look of slight shock and surprise on his features. 

“I remember all of their names,” He admits, his hands starting to fidget, his fingers dancing across his skin over and over again. 

While he was on the ship, his father had sent him every death certificate. There was never any other note, no words from the Fire Lord, just a piece of paper with the name, age, and rank of the soldier who died. Zuko had kept every single one on his ship, reading over every single one and committing their names to his memory. He couldn’t stop them from dying, but they were what motivated him to keep moving, to get back his honor so that he could help prevent deaths like theirs. 

“He was only a year older than me,” Zuko admitted. He had spent many nights staring at his death record, the age that declared him only 14 years old when he died. He was the youngest in the division, but not by much. The entire 41st was made up of children, the oldest being on 22. It still made Zuko's stomach turn when he thought of his father willingly sending children to war. Kaori was around Katara's age, only a few years older than Aang and Toph. The idea of them being sent marching to their deaths made Zuko want to be sick.

“I’m sorry,” He blurted out, distantly aware that everyone else seemed to have quieted down, focusing on Zuko and Chit Sang’s conversation. He couldn’t bring himself to care over the pounding of his heart, he couldn’t look away from the other man, he was transfixed, the memories of those he failed to save pushing to the front of his mind. “I should have done more-“

“You did enough,” Chit Snag said gruffly, his voice firm. The fieriness of the tone shocked Zuko into silence, his own heart pumping as he wondered if he read this wrong, if he overstepped or insulted the other man somehow. “I received a letter from him you know, sent three days before his death.” 

Zuko let out a shaky breath, he wanted to say something more, to apologize for his foolishness and inability to stop the plan from going into action. But he could tell Chit Sang wasn’t done talking, and he owed it to him to listen. There weren't many people left to spread the 41st division's story.

“It was their second time being sent out. They knew by then what they were ordered to do, they knew that they were being sent in as bait, that they were meant to be slaughtered,” Chit Sang only paused for a second, but Zuko heard someone gasp in the background. He was sure all of them were listening. But he could only stare at Chit Sang, who stared back, his eyes gently resting on Zuko’s scar. “They heard what you did, what you suffered through for them. It’s all he talked about.” 

“I didn’t do enough,” Zuko repeated again, unable to force any other words form his mouth, Chit Sang ignored him. 

“They knew they were marching to their deaths, but hearing what you did, knowing that someone out there cared enough to protest it, someone from the royal family even, it was enough for them. You gave them hope Zuko. They didn’t have that until you. You showed them that people other than their own families cared enough to try and protect them. They marched to their deaths knowing you would remember them,” Zuko had. He remembered every single one of their names, read through their death reports almost nightly. 

“Hope didn’t save them,” Zuko said, less of a protest and more of an admission. 

“Hope is what let them die with honor,” Chit Sang said seriously. “Without that hope they would have died scared and alone. You gave them enough hope that they went to fight with their heads held high.” 

There was a lull in the conversation. Chit Sang seemed to be taking a moment, his head bent slightly as he stared down at his tightly clenched hands. Everyone else was completely silent, but Zuko was unable to look over to see their reactions. It was as if he was frozen in time.

He didn’t know how to process any of this. He had come to terms with the demise of the 41st division. He hated it, and at first it made him so mad that he would scream and yell at whoever came near him. He had disrespected his father, had lost his home, half his hearing, and half his sight, and in the end, it meant nothing. They had all still died. He had changed _nothing_. The idea that maybe he did help, that maybe he had managed to do something, it was almost impossible to accept. 

“Most of the 41st were from my village,” Chit Sang said again, and Zuko wanted to beg him to stop, to get up and leave so he wouldn’t have to hear it. He was frozen where he sat, his cup of tea cooling in his hand. “We had lost our children, our siblings, almost the entire village was in mourning. We had nothing left to lose. So when we heard about your efforts to save them, your punishment, we rioted.” 

Zuko hadn’t heard of any riots, honestly, he wasn’t aware that anyone knew of his banishment. He assumed they kept it to the royal family and their most trusted, but it made sense that his father wanted to share Zuko’s embarrassment nationwide. 

“You fought for them, you burned for them, and so we did the same,” Chit Sang shrugged, trying for indifference and failing, his face was hard and angry, tense lines drawing up every part of him. “The army burned down our village, arrested everyone they could, tried to make sure that no one ever knew that we existed, that the 41st existed. I got away and did everything I could to spread the news, no one else could afford to riot as we did, but the news traveled fast. From what I heard in prison after I was arrested for conspiracy, the entire nation knows the 41st division’s story, they know the truth about your story, what you tried to do.” 

Chit Sang turned to face him fully, the larger man towering over Zuko even sitting down, but he didn’t feel scared. Zuko was heartbroken, hearing about his people sounding so broken, trying to find hope and peace in a nation that was trained to burn any sign of that down. 

“Know that when you are Fire Lord,” Chit Sang spoke with certainty, as if Zuko’s leadership was inevitable. Zuko himself wished he could be as sure. “You will have my undying loyalty. The people are behind you, because they saw what you fought for. And it wasn’t your honor, it wasn’t your position, when it came down to it you fought for your people. You were a symbol of hope in prison and across the nation to those who just want this war to end. Everyone who knows someone who died in the war, everyone who has seen the suffering your father is bringing to our nation. We all stand behind you, even if it doesn’t feel like it.” 

Chit Sang was moving, his head bowing down partially, his hands resting on his knees, slightly cupped as if holding and offering out a flame. 

It wasn’t a sign of obedience from a subject to the Fire Lord, but instead a symbol of respect. Chit Sang wasn’t pledging his loyalty to Zuko because that was what was expected of him. He was pledging his loyalty to Zuko out of respect for everything he had done, because he wanted to. 

“To your inevitable ruling and the peace we know you will bring,” Chit Sang hesitated slightly, but he didn’t break his bow, and when he spoke his voice was still strong. “Thank you Prince Zuko.” 

Zuko couldn’t think, he couldn’t speak. It was too much at once, to understand the story Chit Sang told him, to think of his people out there, scared and desperate but trusting _him_ to bring back the peace. Not Aang, not the Avatar, but him. 

Zuko bowed his own head, reaching out and cupping his hands over Chit Sang’s own, the return of his gesture, the acceptance of respect, the return of loyalty and trust. They stayed bowed like that for a solid five seconds before Zuko couldn’t stand it anymore. He pulled back, quickly standing up as Chit Sang stared up at him, understanding and gratitude shining in his eyes. 

“Um,” Zuko said, becoming aware of everyone else staring at him with wide eyes. “I’m going to bed.” 

He left quickly; his head ducked but a warm feeling creeping through his chest. He thinks it might be what hope feels like.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed!


End file.
